


Symmetry

by FroldGapp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Death, Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Season/Series 06, Romance, SHEITH - Freeform, Season/Series 06, Shiro (Voltron) Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroldGapp/pseuds/FroldGapp
Summary: Together, they can heal.Season Six Spoilers





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> roar at me: froldgapp.tumblr.com

Water drips from the cloth wrung out between Keith’s fingers, stinging as it runs over his skinned knuckles. His bruised cheek throbs, as does his jaw, his back, his head, his heart. He pulls the cloth up and over the lip of the basin, making sure with precise movements that it’s neatly folded before laying it across Shiro’s forehead. Shiro doesn’t stir. The wolf, Uchu, snuffles at Keith’s wet fingers, licking the droplets with a warm, spiney tongue.

They have docked briefly on Olkarion, allowing themselves some respite before making the long journey back to Earth.

His mother peels herself up from her chair and squeezes his shoulder. ‘I’ll go,’ she says simply. She presses the pads of her fingers against his temple and pulls him gently into a kiss to the crown.

Keith nods. He says, ‘Good night.’ And, because he’s mined the beauty of the words, he adds, ‘Love you.’ Krolia pauses and stares down at him. ‘I,’ she says, haltingly, ‘love you too.’ She coughs and gives his hair a little tug before slipping out with Uchu trotting by her heels.

‘Uchu knows she’ll be fed. That's why she went,’ Keith says to the sleeping Shiro. ‘She’s very picky.’ His voice wavers and splits as he finishes: ‘She’d hate your cooking.’ And suddenly, he’s weeping. He presses his face into his palms and sobs in short breaths as the searing white of death rushes up to meet him again. ‘I couldn’t lose you anymore. I couldn’t. I couldn’t, Shiro.’ He tears his head back and looks to the ceiling to clear his eyes. It doesn’t work; it only makes his throat burn harder with grief. Annoyed with himself, he fusses with the edges of Shiro’s blanket, pulling and pulling until there isn’t a single crease left. He sniffs and wipes a hand down his face. He is so very tired.

Cool, dry fingers stutter at his wrist, then softly wrap all the way around. They tease his hand free.

Shiro’s eyes are open, and he’s looking at Keith. ‘You’re here,’ he says.

Wide-eyed, Keith can only nod. The words aren’t coming. When he has so much to say, his slow mouth fails him. He clears his throat, looks away, and back again when those same strong fingers trace the angle of his scar. Shiro's eyes shimmer with upset. ‘You’re so strong,’ he says, his voice like smoke, but full of wonder.

‘I was scared.’ Keith lifts the flannel, turns it, and replaces it. Against its navy blue, Shiro's hair is like snowfall. Fresh tears come, he sniffs them back with a shake of his head.

Shiro flicks his nose; playful and so bruisingly _him_. ‘I never had a chance to say it back,’ he says.

Keith doesn’t speak, terrified of spoiling the moment that has his stomach bottoming out and heat pooling from spine to navel. He doesn’t even breathe. It seems the universe tremors for those brief, silent moments, then Shiro says it.

‘I love you too.’


	2. Chapter 2

Uchu is a nuisance, scrabbling at the door and bumping against Krolia’s legs. She doesn’t realise how big she’s become since they first discovered her. Eager to go in and greet her master, she whines at the door and casts betrayed looks back over her shoulder. Krolia holds her by the scruff to quiet her, but the wolf de-materialises and appears on her other side, renewing her scraping and snuffling.

‘Stupid–’

The wolf zips into nothingness again, and Krolia knows she’s worked out that she need not wait for Krolia to open the door at all. She hears her yip from inside the room. Slapping her hand against the control panel, Krolia steps inside before the door’s even opened. Uchu has bounded to the low cot, and sniffs noisily at the empty chair and the floor surrounding it. Again, she turns wounded eyes back to Krolia: a look that says, unambiguously,  _ Where the fuck is he? _

Krolia, of course, knows. As if the discarded armour piled high against the wall isn't enough of a clue. She pads gently towards the cot, and rounds the other side. Two pairs of feet peep out from under the thin blanket, but shoot back under when Uchu gets at them with her low-voltage nose. Legs shift and grumbles emerge, but neither of them wake.

‘Look at them,’ Krolia says. They embrace, arms around waists, fingers buried into each other’s hair. Their bare shoulders are covered in welts and scrapes, and Keith’s knuckles are red-raw where his hand cups the back of Shiro’s head. Her son’s face is pressed into the crook of Shiro’s neck, but if she raises herself on her toes, she can see the gentle puff of his lips. She pushes her fingers through his thick hair, and Uchu – ever curious – props her front paws on the edge of the cot to lap at the nape of his neck. He squirms, renewing his grip on Shiro, and stills again.

_ It hasn’t occurred to him _ , she thinks, lowering herself onto a chair, her fingers still making patterns in Keith’s dusty mane.  _ When the excitement clears, he’ll struggle. _

Because the question emerges: what happened to the other one? The one she met? The one who “turned”. Uchu looks at her and issues a quiet  _ mruff! _ She tickles the wolf’s muzzle, smiling when the animal closes its eyes with contentment.

‘I don’t know, Uchu.’ Krolia leans back in the chair and closes her eyes. A shadow of Keith’s father is waiting there, has done, ever since the time events. She left a planet behind to save him; to save them both. In doing so, she abandoned her boy to a cruel and uncaring childhood. The paladins saved Shiro, but at what cost? That over another life? Another  _ him? _ She breathes deeply through her nose. Good and bad, they have become greyed impossibly in this hellish war. The original black paladin is saved, but of his clone, and all the other  _ vessels _ ... ‘I don’t know.’

Dropping back to all floors, Uchu keens and lays its head on her thigh. She runs her hand through the animal's neon mane that fizzes where she touches. ‘I just want him to be happy,’ she says, hoping – cruelly, selfishly – that he never spares the question of the clone a single thought.


	3. Kuron's Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ㅠㅠ

You were the first kindness I ever encountered.  
  
When we met, nose to nose in velvet space, I couldn’t possibly know what you would mean to me. My side burned, my stomach was a cave, and death’s heel was on my throat. You plucked me to safety without a second thought, your smile a supernova.

You have no idea how often I thought about those first moments on the castle ship; how you followed me like a shadow to my room, worked your long fingers into the knots and aches of my beaten back. You told me I was needed, and your eyes brooked no argument: your faith was everything.  
  
The headaches were only the beginning. The weeks wore on, and I found myself fracturing. Even as your face crumpled into disappointment, I couldn’t stop the bitter flow of criticism and control. I'm sorry. I didn't know how to keep from saying the things I said. I didn’t mean to bring you down. All I ever wanted was to build you up.

Thought and action started to come apart at the seams; when you shrank and retreated, the puppeteer cheered. I never did. I  _ never _ wanted to let you go. We lost you, and soon after, I began to lose myself.

Your words echo again and again in the lonely chamber of my heart: _I love you. I love you. I love you._ Proof of the divine is in the gentle way you hold my tired and sorry head. 

Please know: Allura’s hands are so soft and so warm, and it barely hurts at all.

The fight flashes past me like lighted windows in a subway carriage. So loud, so chaotic, so violent, so wicked. But  _ you _ : the quiet, the constant, the calm, the good. You believed in me until the very end. I am so very glad I got to say your name just one last time.

Thank you, boy gallant, sweet mikado soul. You saved me. And for a brief moment, I felt loved.


End file.
